See You In Another Life, Yeah?
by ronniekins77
Summary: They've known each other in one life. Now they know each other in the next. Jack/Kate.


**A/N: **Written in November 2006. This one tackles the whole "if Jack and Kate met in another life" theory. I think it comes from a quote Damon made, about how they'd know each other in another life. I _think_. It's been awhile since I read it, and two years since I wrote this story. I also always had the idea of writing Jack and Kate as kids. So you get that, too. Enjoy. ;)

--

He was tenderly touching the bruise around his eye, softly moaning at the delicately sharp pain this caused, when he noticed that someone was standing in front of him. Looking up, he saw a girl about his age. Wearing a torn shirt underneath overalls that strapped over just one shoulder, mismatched socks and scuffed shoes, she didn't quite seem to be from around here. The girls here wore pretty black dress shoes and cute sundresses, their hair held back with pink clips. But even if she wasn't from around her, even though he'd never seen her before, something about her was creepily familiar. What it was, he couldn't quite place, because he had never experienced this sort of deja vu' before.

"Hey," she said.

He dropped his hands from his face and placed them on the tops of his knees, and responded with an echoing, "Hey."

"Wow, look at that shiner," she said, gesturing to his eye, but her voice was not unsympathetic. "Is that what you're in here for?"

He glanced around at the blue-white walls of the hospital and shook his head. "My dad's a doctor. I'm just waiting for him to get done with a patient."

"Oh."

"What are you here for?"

The girl blinked several times and looked down the long corridor. He thought maybe she was going to ignore him, but then her face looked back at him, her eyes shining. "My mom has cancer."

"I'm sorry," he said and he truly was. For some reason, he felt sad himself.

"I'm sorry, too," she replied.

There was an awkward pause in their conversation and he watched as she brought her fingers up to her mouth and started nibbling on the tips. "Do you want to sit down?" He moved over on the cushy bench to make room for her.

"I like to stand," she said, and her body gave a little jolt, like she was dying to be somewhere else. She started to fidget, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The expression on her face told him she was having an internal battle of sorts. And then, "Do you wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"We can play outside," and she tilted her head in the direction of the doors a few feet away from them.

"I don't think I should. My dad told me to wait here for him. He'll get mad if I don't listen," and now he was the one who was fidgeting.

The girl frowned. "Well, how long are you supposed to wait for? You've been waiting for an hour already." He was just about to ask her how she knew that exactly, but she seemed to know what he was thinking because she said quickly, "I was watching you."

He raised his eyebrows slightly, partly in confusion and partly in curiosity, then ran a hand over his head. He very much wanted to spend time with this girl, but he didn't want to disobey his father. He sat in thoughtful debate for a few moments, and eventually decided that his father wouldn't even notice he was gone. Besides, he was bored out of his mind and this girl seemed interesting; she'd at least keep him occupied for awhile.

They ran out of the doors into the parking lot. He waited for her to tell him whatever it is she wanted to do, but words weren't needed. Within seconds she had climbed the nearest tree and perched herself on a huge, twisty branch in the center of it. She beckoned him forward with one dirt covered hand and a wide smile. "Come on," she said, resting her back on the tree trunk for support.

"I don't want to," he told her and his eyes immediately shot up toward the top of the tree; it was so _high_.

"It's fun," she said, laughing at his obvious fear.

"I don't know..."

"Fun's not bad!" Her voice was adamant. "You should try it sometime."

He wondered how it was she knew that he didn't really have a lot of fun and why her words seemed so familiar. "Fine," he said, and he started to climb hesitantly, softly counting to five in an attempt to steady his racing heartbeat, his hands slipping and scratching against the bark clumsily. Just when he thought he'd fall, the girl extended her hand for him to grab. He did, and pulled himself up so that he was sitting across her, his legs dangling on either side of the tree.

"See? Isn't this fun?"

He looked down at the ground. "Yeah, sure. Lots of fun."

"Why are you looking down there? You're not going to fall out of the tree," and she sounded so sure of herself that he almost believed her. "Stop looking! Look at me!" she said, and he tore his gaze from the ground reluctantly.

He smiled nervously. "I don't even know your name."

She returned the smile and he noticed that her eyes were a clear shade of blue. "I'm Annie." He furrowed his brow; she folded her arms indignantly across her chest. "What?"

"You just don't seem like an Annie," he explained with a short shrug of his shoulders.

"Well, what's your name?" she asked huffily, but he could tell she was curious.

"Tom."

Her eyes twinkled. "You don't look like a Tom," she said, imitating his voice almost perfectly.

He laughed. "You're just saying that 'cause I said it about you first."

"Maybe, maybe not."

He picked at the bark on the tree, feeling bashful all of a sudden. He didn't know what this feeling was or why he was feeling it, but he thought he could sit in this tree with her for the rest of his life, even if he was afraid of heights.

"So how'd you get a black eye?" she asked and he saw that she was picking at the bark of the tree, too. Their hands brushed against one another for a split second and he yanked his hand away quickly (and so did she), taken aback at the tiny jolt that shot through him. He could feel the heat rise to his cheeks and he struggled to remember what she had just asked him.

"Uh...a couple guys jumped James Fisher," he said, avoiding her eyes.

"What?"

"You asked me how I got a black eye," he reminded her.

"Oh," she said, and he smirked a bit because she was blushing, too.

"So they jumped him, but they didn't jump you?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't going to just watch him get beat up."

Annie tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She was smiling at him as if she knew something he didn't. "So what are you, a hero or something?"

"No!"

"It's okay to help people," Annie said, as if a bit surprised with his defensive answer. "Good guys are...well, good. You'll probably be a doctor like your dad."

Tom's eyes widened and he said, "No!" even more loudly than he had before.

"Got another plan?" She smirked knowingly at him and he wondered again why it was she seemed so familiar, why it seemed like he'd met and talked to her before, why it seemed like she knew him and could see right through him.

"I'm going to play baseball professionally," he said (and _ha_, see if she knew _that_), "For the Red Sox."

Annie nodded with approval. "They're really good."

"What are you going to be when you grow up?" He leaned closer, eager to hear her answer. He honestly had no clue what she might be; he couldn't read her as well as she read him.

"A cowgirl," she said, straightening in a I'm-proud-of-myself kind of way. "That way I can just get on a horse and ride off into the sunset."

For some reason, Tom wasn't surprised. He was just about to tell her so when the doors of the hospital banged open. Startled, he swayed and almost fell out of the tree, but Annie leaned forward in time to stop him from doing so, her hands firmly in place on his waist. He stiffened, feeling uncomfortable and warm at the same time.

"Tom!" yelled a voice and he looked down to see his father standing by the doors. "I thought I told you to wait inside."

"Sorry," Tom mumbled as his father threw him an irritated expression and stalked back inside. Sighing, Tom saw that Annie was staring at him with an almost sad expression on her face. Next moment she had jumped out of the tree, landing directly on her two feet. He gaped at her, his mouth forming an 'o' and a feeling of admiration bubbled inside his stomach.

"Well," she called, hands on her hips, dark hair blowing in the breeze, "you coming down?"

Tom swallowed hard. He hadn't really thought about how he was going to get down. If he jumped, he'd break his neck! He wasn't exactly graceful... "Uh, I don't know if I can."

"Just jump." She made it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Taking a deep breath, he swung his right leg over the branch. His arms wrapped around the tree trunk tightly and he looked up toward the sky, too afraid to look down. "You can do it Tom," Annie said, her voice soft and encouraging and it was really starting to annoy him because it was so _familiar_ and he couldn't place it. "Just close your eyes," she continued. He did so, trying to ignore the burning sensation behind his lids. He let out a frustrated groan because he didn't want to cry...not in front of her. "Okay, now just jump. Pretend like you're flying."

Flying. Yeah, okay. He could do that. Maybe.

Two seconds later he was laying in the dirt, clutching his arm in pain. Annie was at his side, making worried noises and asking him repeatedly if he was okay. Trying to hold back the tears that were now dangerously close to spilling out, he grunted and said, "I...I think I broke my arm."

Annie smiled, plucking a piece of grass from where it stuck to his sweaty cheek. "I guess flying's not your thing."

He stared at her, now on the verge of wanting to yell, "WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE HAVE I MET YOU?" But he didn't. It wasn't her fault he was going insane. With Annie's help, he managed to stand up on his shaky legs. Annie wiped the dirt off of his pants and shirt and he cursed the tingling, butterfly-like sensation that seemed to spring up wherever she touched him.

Finally she stood level with him and gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry," she said, and he could tell she truly meant it. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'd make you a sling or something," and here she half-laughed, "but I think your dad can probably fix that better than I can."

He smiled at her offer anyway. Together they walked into the hospital and Tom watched Annie, still trying to place her. They came across the place where she had found him and stopped walking. Annie got that look on her face again, the one that hinted that she was having an internal battle of some kind. "I, um, should probably go up to my mom now," she said, licking her lips nervously.

"Oh, okay," said Tom and he started to feel sharp pangs of pain in his chest.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, indicating the unnatural position of his arm.

"I'm great," he said thickly, trying not to let on just how much he hurt, because the hurt wasn't because of his arm.

Annie smiled. "Bye, Jack," she said softly, and he blinked in surprise (and why on earth did _that_ seem familiar?). She shook her head, laughing and looking a little surprised herself. "Tom," she corrected herself.

"Tom," he repeated. "Right."

She walked away as he said, "Bye" and gave a slight wave at her turned back.

The pain was unbearable.

–-

He never saw Annie again, but Tom never forgot about her. He didn't think about her often, but when he did he was never able to figure out why she had seemed so familiar to him, but at night images of an airplane, an island, a man named Jack, and a woman named Kate would flash in the middle of his dreams. Somewhere in his subconscious, the flashes ("I'm Kate." "Hey." "I'm sorry." "Jack.") would all come together and make sense. The warmth of her memory would run through his body, settling over him like a wave of ocean water, and he'd vow to find her again.

But then he'd wake up and, like most people, couldn't remember his dreams.


End file.
